


Under the door

by BluBoi



Category: Fanders, Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crying, Death, Ignored, Loneliness, Loss, M/M, Major Character Injury, Sad, Self-Harm, Sickness, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluBoi/pseuds/BluBoi
Summary: Roman liked to write letters.





	Under the door

Prince liked to write letters.  


Long sappy romantic letters.

Short sweet letters.

Letters written in smooth royal writing.

Letters that were pleasing to the eye in the soft black ink.

Letters that expressed his emotions.

Letters that captured the darker side’s heart.  

______________________________________________________________

 Prince snuck quietly over to the door, checking the hallway twice. Though he wouldn’t admit it, it was painfully obvious he was slightly nervous.  Upon reaching the door he bent down, letting out a low sigh when he saw no light coming from beneath.  He slipped the thin envelope under the black wood. _‘No turning back now’_

Standing with his head raised he adjusted his outfit and continued down the hall nonchalantly.  

* * *

Anxiety was curled up on his bed, head barely peaking from under layers of soft blankets. He blinked slowly, looking sleepily around his room. He had just woken from an impromptu nap, his neck aching in protest at the funny position.  As he yawned, scratched and stretched, his ears picked up on the loud crinkle of paper. It was then he noticed the light grey paper now on the floor, pausing as he gazed at it. Clearly seeing his name, in bold, cursive gold. With his curiosity peaked he scrambled off the bed. Quilts tangling round his leg and causing him to fall onto his chest with a yelp. Letting out a low huff he blindly reached out for the letter, rolling onto his back as he stared at the shiny writing. Carefully, with his anxious thoughts running rampant round his head he opened it. Slowly pulling out the small scroll from inside. He took a deep breath then began unrolling it, his eyes begin to read:

_My heart just doesn’t stop singing_

_Humming bubbly pop tunes_

_My mind keeps on saying_

_That you deserve the moon_

_My gut tells me that you_

_Could be the man of my dreams_

_The only way to find the truth_

_Is to ask you out, it seems_

_I had a crush on you since the beginning_

_So these feelings are nothing new_

_I have not told this to you before_

_But_ **_I like you, I really do_ **

His eyes landed on the signature ‘ _yours truly ~ Prince ‘_ Tears were soon prickling the corners of his eyes. His throat was tight, each breath constricted. He wasn’t sure how to breathe anymore. _‘Princey?’ That mythical knight of pure happiness, likes… **Me**?’_

* * *

Anxiety didn’t leave his room that day.

‘ _How could he love you?’_

Or the day after that.  

 _‘You can’t tell him you reciprocate. You’re a coward. Knights **hate** cowards.’_

Both nights were filled with panicked mumbling, muffled cries and quiet tears.

Then the next morning another letter appeared.

_My dark friend, if you don’t mind_

_I’d like to join you by your side,_

_to talk about the emotions I feel_

_Maybe we can make a deal._

_If my poem caused you to be so upset_

_If you’d rather wish that l forget_

_Or Wish that I should leave you be_

_Then just for you, I will, Perhaps you’re not the one for me…_

Anxiety’s thumbs rubbed the small patch of wetness on the paper. _‘Now you’ve done it. You had Prince in tears…’_ His body shook, tears streaming down his own face. He didn’t move, dozing in and out of his distraught state. Laying in his puddle of sadness on the floor.

* * *

Over the next few days, Anxiety eventually managed to escape for a small snack and some Panadol. Effectively killing the minor headache that he was suffering. He was fortunately not spotted by anyone but Logic, who was too consumed by his work to really notice him.He knew he would soon be forced to work out these thoughts if he wanted to maintain eating with ease.

 Later that evening, another letter appeared but this one… Was blank. Although his head was still pounding with negativity, something quiet managed to make its way to the forefront of his mind. 

_‘You can do it…tell him’_

This time, before he went to sleep, Anxiety left his door open.

 ______________________________________________________________

 Prince headed towards Anxiety’s room, another letter in hand, his face was pale, and he had to rewrite the letter at least 3 times due to his weeping.  Each step towards the door was almost agony, every time he got closer a new worry emerged.

‘ _He doesn’t like you… he can’t handle your drama.’_

_‘You’re too emotional.’_

_‘How are you even into him?’_

_‘He is_ **anxiety.’** He reached the doorand then he stopped.

_‘The door… it’s open, he’ll see you’_

Before he could move he was suddenly engulfed in a warm embrace. _“I’m So s-sorry! I-I didn’t know how to say it… a-and then i-I made you s-sad and i-I thought that th-ere was no p-point…”_ Prince instinctively wrapped an arm around him, hand combing through his hair. ‘ _You made him feel bad…’_  It was a rare occurrence, Anxiety being like this. It only happened when he was seriously emotional. ’ _You caused his tears.’_ Anxiety was sobbing lightly on his shoulder, shaking in in grasp _.  “P-prince..i-I like you too…”_

 Prince’s negative thoughts practically vanished. His hand paused, holding a clump of the darker boy’s hair. _“…You do?”_   Anxiety tugged the royal boys face down to his, connecting their lips gently.   He then pulled away completely, realising what he had done. _”S-sorry!”_ He squeaked, backing up from Prince.  Prince stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Anxiety tried to sort through his thoughts, his heart was beating so fast.  Prince tilted the others head up, gazing in to his eyes. They stood in silence for what seemed like eons. 

  _“D-Does that answer your question Sir-Writes-a lot?”_ Anxiety tried for sassy, but he was blushing like mad under the white foundation.  Prince chuckled and grabbed anxiety, dipping him to the floor.   _“Sure does hot-topic.”_  And he gave anxiety another passionate kiss.

* * *

**_  
_ **

**_…. That was roughly 6 months ago… 6 months before Thomas had found ‘Them’_ **

Anxiety was just sick. He had the usual, a fever, cough, he couldn’t keep much food down without bringing it up.

Morality had fussed over him a little less then normal, having been shushed away by a protective Prince.  Who simply stated _“I’ll take care of it”_

Prince cuddled him, stroked his hair, and made him food. He knew he’d get better.

**_But he didn’t._ **

It only took them a week to realise that he wouldn’t… because Thomas had told them.

Morality and Logic were manning Thomas’s emotional state, preparing to film another video. 

_It was all going according to schedule, as logic had planned…_

_But then._

_“I won’t have anxiety anymore guys!”_ He cheered, holding up the small bottle of pills to the camera. _“And they won’t cause any negative effects either, I might actually be able to go out and socialise!”_  Thomas had only just finished the sentence before Morality practically sprinted down the hall.

* * *

Prince was laying with his ‘little raincloud’, holding him close as he rested. He was disturbed by a frantic knock on the door. He huffed.

It was a slow process but he managed to pry himself off his sick partner, opening the door with dishevelled hair, and rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. _“What is the matter mo?”_  He looked properly at the parent’s features, He noticed how stressed the other looked, He was panicking.  Suddenly he became more alert.

Morality couldn’t speak, grabbing the royals arm and dragging him down the hall. Only letting go once they were in front of the panel, standing in front of a mildly agitated Logan. _“Oh good, you got him. Prince we have something important to tell you… It’s about anxiety.”_  The teacher sounded uneasy, pushing his glasses up his nose as he averted Prince’s gaze.  The royal folded his arm with a frown. _“What would that be logic?”_

Those six words…

Just a handful of syllables that caused the bright creative spark to blow out. As quickly as a candle in the wind.

**_“Thomas is getting rid of anxiety.”_ **

****

It all seemed to escalate from there.

Prince was at Anxiety’s side constantly, making letter upon letter in his spare time while his opposite slept… Which slowly became more and more often the sicker he got.  

* * *

The first thing he lost was the ability to walk.

Each step he took to go to the bathroom or kitchen hurt. Prince forced him not to leave the bed when he found him collapsed on the floor in absolute agony. After sleeping and cuddling. He ended up forcing Prince to bring him each of the letters he couldn’t pick up from the floor, his legs useless.

* * *

The next thing he lost was his vision.

He woke up. At least he felt like he had, but. He couldn’t see. His arm quickly found and latched onto prince, shaking him lightly. _“P-p-prince?”_ Prince sat up slowly hearing the others panic _“What’s the matter? Did you have another nightmare? Don’t fear it my rain cloud, I’m here.”_ Anxiety shook his head so much that he made himself nauseous, seeing nothing in the inky void that was now his vision. He leant over vomiting into the bucket they now kept beside his bed due to his inability to keep down food. He sat back up slowly and prince held him tightly until he finished crying himself out. He then handed him a bottle of water, and once Anxiety’s mouth wasn’t raw from stomach bile he whispered into the darkness. _“i-I can’t see.”_

 Now unable to read the delicate scrawl on the paper Anxiety practically begged for Prince to read them to him. Prince’s heart ached with each word, but he kept up his lively tone. ‘ _for_ him’

And although each poem caused Anxiety to tear up, bright smiles radiated on his pale features.  He pulled Prince towards him and blindly kissed him over and over until they both fell asleep, exhausted.

  


* * *

Then, a mere 4 days later, Anxiety didn’t move.

**_At all._ **

He didn’t speak, groan, or moan. He didn’t grab Prince randomly to whisper loving thoughts in his ear. He didn’t peak him gently on the cheek. He didn’t whine to have his hair delicately caressed.

He just laid there. Eyes glazed over as he stared blankly at the celling, eyes glazed over. Prince shook him, talked to him, and kissed the absolute shit out of him.  He tried everything to make him do something. _Anything._  But Anx just _laid_ there… Lifeless.

Eventually, He couldn’t take the soul-crushing silence, so he did what he did best. He made his lover a poem… and he sung.

_Come stop your crying_

_It will be alright_

_Just take my hand_

_And hold it tight_

_I will protect you_

_From all around you_

_I will be here_

_Don’t you cry_

_For one so small,_

_You seem so strong_

_My arms will hold you,_

_Keep you safe and warm_

_This bond between us_

_Can’t be broken_

_I will be here_

_Don’t you cry_

_‘Cause you’ll be in my heart_

_Yes, you’ll be in my heart_

_From this day on_

_Now and forever more_

_You’ll be in my heart_

_No matter what they say_

_You’ll be here in my heart_

_**Always.** _

_**  
** _

Prince grabbed the hand closest to him, holding the unresponsive cold palm tightly, pressing his lips on the frozen knuckles.    That night Prince slept in the other room, and he cried…and sung and his heart just ached…

**_All night._ **

* * *

The next day he was gone. Literally. The bed he was so used to sharing. The bed they had heavy make-out sessions on, the quilt they wrapped up in when the other was sad.  It was empty.   The room was dark… and even the brightest light could no longer pierce the gloom.

After finding out Morality and Logic made sure the door was shut and locked. No one went in… And of course, although Prince took a while to admit it, nothing was going to come out. 

* * *

In time Prince became rather closed off from the others. He wasn’t rude or harsh towards them and of course, he would still maintain princely thoughts… But just not as often.

He would make ideas, but they were a little lacklustre.

He would cheer when Thomas had done something wonderful, but his eyes would be dull.

He would slay beasts, but his movements were just that little too forceful, and less fluid then they used to be.

Prince was just, a little less than before. Nonetheless every day he would write a letter. Each one when completed and sealed, would go under the locked black door that was across from his room.

__

Week after week pasted. Letter after letter went under the door, One every Day, without fail. Each one unique and hand-written in his swirly scribble.

As the days went on, it seemed that Prince’s sanity was dwindling. His Princely attire now removed, hung lifelessly collecting dust in the closet.

Those things that were a little less just seemed to get, even worst in quality. Up to the point that even _Logic_ could do better.

___

And then he’d had enough. Signing another letter he walked outside and put a hand on the cool wood.   He sat down outside it, fiddling with the letter in his hand. He slid it under with a sigh. He didn’t even have tears to spill anymore. He was so empty.

 _“I miss you anx.”_ He whispered as if the boy was listening. _“I don’t think … I - can’t do this without you anymore… these letters. With no one to read them.”_   He didn’t have the words to make one of his usual big dramatic royal speeches. 

* * *

 Morality peaked out from his room upon hearing the royal, but when he saw how _Gone_ Prince was, he had no choice but to slowly shut the door. He had tried many a time to help the kid, but he was lost. He turned and was meet with Logics warm embrace, the teacher wiping tears from dad’s eyes. They didn’t know how to help anymore.  Prince was just _broken_ and they didn’t know how to fix him.

* * *

 His heart ached as he sat there. The blade spun in his grasp _.   “I’m sorry.”_ his voice was plain, and he looked over to Morality’s shut door barely feeling the small pang of guilt… _“I know they’ll be fine… They have each other.”_ Although he could admit it hurt when the two had gotten together not long after Anxiety’s death, having been pulled together by the loss, there was no bitterness in his voice.

  _“.. I can’t – w-ithout you Anxiety.”_ He pulls up his sleeve, looking at the scars of tally marks. At first he just cut. Each mark for each month he was alone. Each month that he posted letters.

Eight dull red lines made their way up his arm and one nasty red one that was still healing.

He pulled out the last letter, unfolding it from inside his jacket and smoothing it out in front of him.   _“I hope your listening… ”_   He fiddled with the blade. This was his final choice. He couldn’t help Thomas in such an unroyal state. His ideas were sour.His creativity torn to shreds. He was a coward and he knew it. The sacrifice was worth it if he got to see _him_ again…  

He grabbed the blade.  In one swift move, he plunged it into his chest. The blade pierced him roughly, blood began pouring down his front, soaking into the grey shirt he was wearing. Letting out something between a groan and a yell, as tears spilt from his eyes.  He looked down through the pain, glaring at the poem. Determination sparkled in his dull eyes as he began to read it. Deep down he knew there was no honour in what he was doing. 

  ** _“Love is a song that never ends_**

**_Life may be swift and fleeting”_ **

He wiped away the tears that continued blurring his vision.  He leant back against the door sighing at the coldness that reached through his shirt and pinched at his back. Tilting to the side so he could read further.

**** **_“H-hope may die yet l-love’s beautiful music_ **

**_Comes each day l-like the dawn”_ **

 He began to stutter now, sliding further down, ending up on his side. His free shaking hand reaching out to hold the paper.  He tried to smile as he sang, his voice breaking up.

  ** _“L-love is a song that n-never e-ends_**

**_One s-simple theme r-repeating”_ **

He yanked out the blade, placing his spare hand over it, applying pressure as black dots spotted and began to impair his vision. He relished the warmth, finally able to feel something…  

  ** _“Like the voice of a heavenly choir_**

**_Love’s sweet music flows o-o-on.”_ **

****

He cloaked as he held the note, spitting blood onto the page. His head fell limply onto the floor, his hand that was on the wound was now numb, applying no pressure as the crimson spread further and further down and around his chest. He sobbed as he took his final breaths. His body convulsing as his heart, at last, came to a slow halt…

_T_ _he puddle grew. Spreading out on the floor and seeping into the cracks. Drenching the pile of card that lay on the other side of the wall. Ruining all the sentences of his love, his loss.._

_and now, Prince didn’t express this pain… in words… he did it, with his very being…  as it poured from his heart, his blood rushed out, straight, **Under the door.**_   


**Author's Note:**

> One of my more favourite angst fics <3 
> 
> I hope you like it as much as I do!
> 
> Comments are always loved <3


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